Maybe he was sending some message to Opal by ignoring her. Yes, maybe that was her fate: To be a living communications system, and the two Cities could take their cue for their relationship by how well she was treated. A slap, a black eye, and committees would form on Opal to review their treaties
Io, darling, have I warned you about what he’ll expect from you?
“My lady?”
Iolanthe found herself facing a woman of about thirty, with twinkling blue eyes and blonde hair pulled up into a net of pearls. Her gown was sky blue, with glossy sleeves, and it made Io suddenly very conscious that perhaps her own dress was over-dark for daytime wear. Maybe that was one of the things the gossips were whispering to each other.
“I’m Prudence Favvi. Adrian was running a bit late, so he sent me to take care of you. I hope you’ve been well- treated.”
“Yes, thank you,” said Io, who understood what it was she was supposed to say.
“Is this your whole party? Shall I have chairs brought? Would any of you like something to drink? We have coffee, tea, and water in that little room there just off the corridor.” Prudence Favvi pointed to one of the carved wooden doors to the left of the hall entrance.
Hartley Quince had quitted his lounging and walked over to stand beside the Favvi woman. “Thank you,” he said, “but we’re quite well as we are. That is, assuming we don’t have much longer to wait.”
She smiled a professional smile toward him. “Certainly not. Adrian has been looking forward to your arrival. And I’m sure that he would have been here to greet you on the spot—if anyone had thought to let him know you were coming.”
They exchanged warmly insincere looks. Then Prudence Favvi curtsied toward Iolanthe, and withdrew.
Prudence entered the Cavern of Audience, which had been summarily cleared of spectators. Brandon Fischer stood there beside Adrian, who had returned to his vocation of pacing restlessly across the floor. He was still wearing his sand-colored jacket.
“You do look marvelous,” said Prudence warmly to him, for like Io, she understood her role here, and she and Adrian were old friends. “Let me straighten your collar.” He stood obediently while she did so. “Well?” he said. “Just first impressions, Adrian. But I don’t think you should meet in the Cavern.”
“Why not?” asked Fischer.
“She’s scared, I believe. And possibly the least reassuring thing I can think of is to drag her in before the court and exchange those meaningless pleasantries of state that have to be said at times like this.”
‘The advantage of meaningless pleasantries of state,” said Adrian, “is that nobody has to think about them. They may be less of a strain on all concerned.”
“In my opinion, she’s been stared at enough for one day. She’s only seventeen, and she wasn’t brought up to it the way you were.”
“I wasn’t—never mind. Prudence, that wasn’t my first question.”
“What question—oh!” Prudence Favvi smiled widely. “She’s lovely.”
His eyes widened. “Is she really?”
“Dark-eyed beauty, straight out of a storybook.”
He started to pace again. Prudence could almost see the nervous energy crackling in the air around him. “Dear me, perhaps I should have told you she was a hag.”
“Why?” he said, startled.
“Well, I don’t know that if I were your designated bride I’d want to meet you this way. She’s off balance enough already. You look like you might scoop the poor girl up and fly her to your aerie on the mountaintop at any time.”
“That’s ridiculous. I don’t scare women. Brandon, tell her that I don’t scare women.”
The Chief Adviser stepped away. “I’m staying out of this.”
“Coward. Wait, does that mean you agree with her?”
“Adrian,” said Prudence, “she’s waiting outside.”
“Yes, yes, I’m very aware of that. All right. We’ll meet in the tea room, how about that? Does that please your feminine sensibilities, Prudence? We’ll clear out the servers and just bring in her and—well, I suppose we’ll have to include the highest ranking escort in her party—”
“Not the man I just met out there. Troublemaker, written on every pore.”
“Really? Very well, we’ll include her chief bodyguard, then. How about that, my Prudence? Does it satisfy your intuitive heart?”
“I think it may do,” she said airily.
“Well, I’m sure we’re all relieved to hear it. Should you have any new insights on state policy, you’ll be sure and bring them to us, won’t you?”
“You’re fortunate I’m here giving you my support,” she said, with some tartness.
“Yes, I am.” The edge of mockery left his voice. He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Thank you. In future, when I’m difficult, I hope you’ll remember that I did once express the gratitude you deserve.”
He was indisputably sincere, and for a second Prudence felt her eyes sting. This was not the time, so with an effort she threw off the feeling and forced an easy smile. “Adrian, only you would take an occasion of gratitude and use it as a bargaining chip for future favors.”
He laughed, startled. “Blame Brandon, it’s the effects of his training.”
“I’ll go clear out the servers,” she said, curtsying with her old pertness, and withdrew.
The room was small, not well-lit, and warm from the effects of coffee urns and heaters and closed trays full of toasted muffins. A black-and-white-striped lacquer chair had been placed by the table for Adrian, but he was not in it. Brandon Fischer sat in a folding chair in the comer watching his lad circle the muffin table. Fischer opened his mouth a few times, but then closed it before saying anything. Silence was the only
